


Call of the Void

by SlytherinPsychopath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fifth Year!Harry, Gen, M/M, Manipulation, One-Sided Attraction, Philosophical Debates on the Innate Goodness of Man, Second Year!Tom, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinPsychopath/pseuds/SlytherinPsychopath
Summary: The Room of Requirement tries very hard to give it's guests what they want. So when it sees a splendid opportunity to answer Harry's question of whether Tom Riddle was innately evil or not, it does just that.ORThe one in which Harry Potter deals with a twelve year old future dark lord fancying him and trying to murder his friends.





	1. A Philosophical Debate

“Do you think Voldemort was ever a good person?” Harry asked, posing this question to the friends sitting around him but was answered for a long moment by only the echos on the walls of the Room of Requirement.

They sat in what felt like a slightly less red and gold version of Gryffindor common room. There was fireplace crackling in front of him as he sat on the floor leaning against a couch. On that couch sat Ron and Neville who had a heated game of exploding snap going on just behind his head much to his annoyance. But he wasn’t about to move either. Hermione sat with quills in hand and hair while she poured over an essay on the relative weakness of modern runes over ancient runes.  Luna sat in the chair to her side with her legs crossed so Ginny could lean against her chair and have her hair braided in intricate patterns that Luna’s talented fingers had no problem weaving.

Hermione looked up from her essay to meet Harry’s eyes, trying to judge the answer he wanted from that while Ron just scoffed outright.

“Doubt it. Someone that evil was probably born with his gross forked tongue,” Ron said as he slapped at a card that Neville won just out from under him.

“No one is  _born_ evil, Ronald,” Hermione contradicted. “Our ideas of evil typically stem from poor social education at a young age and untreated mental illness. Voldemort is a product of poor genetics and poor social environment if I had to wager a guess.”

Luna nodded and hummed in agreement - what a rare occurrence! Harry grinned and raised a brow, waiting for Luna to say something to contradict her anyway. “I think people aren’t really good or evil. Just the choices they make. It’s easier for some people to make good choices than it is for others. Imagine being all alone with no one who’s ever loved you. How would you know lying to people is bad if you’ve never had anyone to care about hurting?”

That was a good point. Harry pursed his lips and wondered how he learned that lying was bad. He thought probably from the Dursleys always accusing him of lying even when he was telling the truth. He couldn’t imagine the trouble he’d get in if he were _actually_ caught in a lie. But he supposed that wasn’t knowing lying as bad, just something punishable.

It took him back to the Chamber of Secrets when Tom Riddle said they weren’t so different after all. Both orphans. Both half-bloods. Both powerful wizards. But Harry couldn’t imagine _ever_ doing half the things Tom Riddle had done by his age. Torturing the school. Murdering innocent people. Maybe some people were born evil.

“I don’t know. I wish there was a way to know,” Harry said with a sigh and leaned back to look up at the ceiling. But his relaxation lasted less than half a second because suddenly where their fire place had been there was suddenly a wardrobe. And after a couple of thumps and a huff a boy came tumbling out.

The boy had soft curly hair and a baby face that could rival none. His mouth was set in a scowl and his eyes were wide - they reminded Harry of a startled animal. A snake coiled for defense even. After a moment of staring, Harry’s stomach dropped and he recognized the boy for who he was.

“Tom,” Harry blurted out and jumped to his feet. “What the f-” he began but was cut off by the twelve year old.

“Who are you? How do you know my name? Where are we?” Tom held his wand up in the firm grip they taught at Hogwarts that was so unlike his future counterpart’s dainty grab.

“Tom?” Ginny asked, staring at Harry with wide eyes. “You can’t mean… Tom Riddle?” she asked, but the whip of her wand said she knew the answer all too well.

Harry put his hand up to her, opening his mouth to tell her to calm down when Tom sent a bright red light zipping between the two of them.

“Answer me!” Tom yelled, his voice cracking as he did so and his hand starting to shake.

“Tom, it’s okay. You can put your wand down. My name’s Harry. I know your name because you’re in the future. 50 years in the future. We’re in Hogwarts. In the Room of Requirements. How did you get in that wardrobe, Tom?”

Tom stared at him like he didn’t believe him for a moment before he looked over their robes and strange haircuts and knew something was definitely different and he couldn’t rule out time travel yet. He did know enough about the rarity of time travel to know to be skeptical though.

That question though. Tom’s heart was still beating too hard from running down the halls, away from his harassers. He’d just asked for someplace he could get away from the pureblooded idiots who pursued him and ended up walking into a room filled to the brim with odds and ends that made no sense. In that room had been the cabinet he’d chosen to hide in when he heard their voices outside, worried they come in, find him, and corner him before he got a chance to fight back.

“None of your business,” Tom bit back. “Prove we’re in the future.”

Ron interrupted Harry’s delicate diplomacy with roll of his eyes and standing up from his chair. “Alright, alright. Back in the wardrobe, kid. Time to go home,” he said, making a shooing motion.

Tom lifted his chin and when he turned around he blasted the wardrobe into a million pieces. Everyone in the room jumped besides Luna who’s eyes merely widened at the sudden outburst.

“Why would you do that!?” Ron asked with straining voice.

“If we’re in the so-called future then I’m sure you have a dozen cabinets like that,” Tom huffed and pointed his wand back at Ginny, not trusting her the most. She was fine with that. She distrusted him more than anyone in the room as well.

Harry sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t friends with people with such hot tempers and big mouths. Like he was one to talk about hot tempers and big mouths.

“Please, everyone, put your wands away,” Harry pleaded, looking from Tom to Ginny.

“I agree. There’s no need for violence,” Luna piped in. She’s Harry’s favorite, he decided. For the moment anyway.

Ginny sputtered and shook her head. “He-he’s Voldemort, Luna. We should kill him dead righ-”

“Ginny!” Harry yelled. He did notice Tom turn white as a ghost and tense in his spot. This boy might have hurt people, but it was obvious he was no murderer yet when a threat like that could turn his insides out so quickly. “He’s a little kid. He’s probably eleven years old-”

“Twelve!”

“Twelve years old. He’s not Voldemort. He’s a scared little kid-”

“I agree with Ginny. We should kill him before he has the chance to hurt anyone,” Hermione interrupted, her wand out and at the ready now as well.

Why were they all so prepared to take someone’s life?

Harry put himself between Tom and his friends. The air grew thick and heavy as Ginny shook in Luna’s arms and Hermione looked at Harry with such sad eyes.  Finally the two ladies dropped their wands to their sides.

With a thick swallow, the savior of the wizarding world turned around to look down at little Tom Riddle who just stared right back up with at him. There was wonder and amazement in those black eyes. They were so warm that Harry almost forgot who he was looking at.

“Tom, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Harry promised. He didn’t know why he promised it. This was baby Voldemort, but… no, Harry couldn’t make himself think like that. Not when he looked so young and innocent and defenseless. Hermione would probably tell him later it was his hero complex overriding his good sense. And he’d probably agree.

Silently Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a little brass coin and handed it over to Tom. Tom’s brows came together before he looked down at the pretty shiny coin with the year 1994 engraved in it. That was his proof… and he’d blown up his only method home. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to return home anyway. Not between the muggle and magical wars going on. Surely the future had to be better. He’d had to have changed it for the better, right?

“1994?” Tom whispered.

“It’s ‘95 now actually,” Harry corrected and watched him.

“You have to tell me everything!” Tom immediately demanded. He wanted to know how the world had changed. All the technology and spells and potions he’d missed. He couldn’t be caught behind, now could he. He expected himself to be something great. Minister of Magic, probably. It was his current goal anyway.

“I will. But first… we need to go to talk to someone.”

 

* * *

 

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected when he took Tom to Dumbledore, but he definitely did not think he’d immediately have Moody and two other aurors called in over a twelve year old who looked more annoyed by their presence than scared. What was his life? At least he’d managed to convince Dumbledore that the others didn’t need to be here for this. It helped when his hot head didn’t have to be the level-headed one in a situation.

“If you’d told me this was going to take so long, I would have put the cabinet back together myself,” Tom muttered snidely as he crossed his arms and listened to Moody yelling about how they obviously needed to kill the kid and Dumbledore softly telling him to be reasonable.

“I would have helped,” Harry muttered right back. He didn’t expect a reaction, but Tom was eerily quiet beside him. When Harry looked over, he saw the boy looking down with red cheeks and a concealed smile. What did that even mean?

Harry looked forward again when Dumbledore called for his attention. Moody looked upset and that was probably a good sign.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Riddle. I’m sure you understand this is… quite the odd circumstance. Given that, we’re going to be bending some rules. I’m going to be asking the Ministry for a time turner that will allow us to return Mr. Riddle to his own time. But until then, it is of the utmost importance to keep Mr. Riddle’s identity and presence here a secret.” Dumbledore gave them both hard looks like he expected one of them to disagree. But he was met with silence. “Until we can return Mr. Riddle to his own time, I think he should continue his studies here,. Should either of you disagree, Mr. Moody has so graciously agreed to allow Mr. Riddle to stay at the Ministry until the time turner is ready. So what will it be?”

Harry looked over at Tom when he said he wanted to stay in Hogwarts and pressed his lips together. Could he deal with this? He probably wouldn’t even have to see Tom, he reasoned. But the idea of having someone with so much potential for evil in the same castle as him had him second guessing himself.

“He’s just a kid,” Harry said softly, looking at Dumbledore with pleading eyes. He needed someone to understand his plight.

“Agreed, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore said with a soft smile and a sparkle in his eyes. “Welcome back, Mr. Riddle. I will have a prefect from your house come to bring you to your dormitory. Not much as changed, but you will need to pretend to be an exchange student. Perhaps a relative of Harry’s. Mr. Thomas Evans should do,” he suggested.

“Yes sir,” Tom said with a scowl. He’s have rather picked a proper wizard name. But he knew that would make it harder to conceal his identity.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly enough… that was the end of that. Harry was sent on his way since it was late and told to go to Gryffindor tower.

Awaiting Harry in the common room were Ron and Hermione. He wondered for a moment where Ginny was, but quickly decided she was probably with Luna after everything that happened. It had to be upsetting. But as much as Harry understood her anger, he couldn’t let a… mostly innocent kid take the brunt for what his older self had done.

“What the hell happened, mate?” Ron asked as soon as Harry walked in.

Harry just shrugged in response. He was still in a daze as he processed what _had_ happened. Tiny Voldemort showed up in the castle but he wasn’t tiny Voldemort… he was just a kid who looked so scared and small and defenseless. But he wasn’t. Harry tried with all his might to remind himself that Tom Riddle, no matter his age, was anything but defenseless. He was violent. Volatile. Manipulative.

Easier said than done. He’d invited Tom Riddle into his _home_ and defended him against those wanting to kill or imprison him out of some stupid sense of justice. He noted for the first time how hard his heart was beating and pressed a hand over his chest like that could stop it.

“I… think I just saved Voldemort.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tom followed this Draco Malfoy bloke down the halls, quiet and observant for any differences… but besides some more dust on a couple portraits, everything seemed exactly the same. How disappointing. He thought he’d change these halls. Do something for the better. What did he do with all that drive, Tom had to wonder. Perhaps he went into the ministry rather than teaching after all.

“Slytherin, you’ll come to learn, is a very particular house. We only accept the best of the best. The most cunning. The most ambitious. The purest of blood. Although… I’m guessing you’re a halfblood with a name like Evans,” Draco spouted as they walked down the hallway, looking out of the corner of his eye with an ugly sneer.

If there was any doubt before that this was the descendant of Abraxas Malfoy, it was all gone. They looked so similar when looking down their nose at him. Tom balled his hands into fists and scowled. He was sure if this vacuous heap of human excrement knew who he was, he’s cower in fear of his own mistakes.

“I am,” Tom said through gritted teeth.

He assumed his character was a half-blood since the name wasn’t that of known purebloods and he was supposed to be Harry’s cousin. He didn’t know his own blood status, but he refused to believe he was a mudblood. Muggles were weak, and Tom? He knew he wasn’t weak. He just had to do a good job of proving that to the rest of the supremacy-spouting neanderthals that this society for some reason gave all the power and prestige.

“Suppose it’ll have to do. Work hard. Prove yourself. And maybe you’ll earn your place regardless, Evans,” Draco advised as they got down to the dungeons. “Any questions?”

Tom wanted to ask him if it was possible to buy hats big enough to cover his enormous ego. He seriously considered asking him if his giant head was compensating for his tiny penis. But in the end he just shook his head.

Draco nodded and turned to the portal to say the password, “Parseltongue.” He waited for Tom to enter before following him. “‘Parseltongue’ is the password for this fortnight. It changes on the 1st and 15th of every month and will be posted a couple days in advance so keep a careful eye out. Let me show you back to your dorms,” he said and moved through the pristine common room.

This was different, Tom noticed. Nicer, he thought. But also colder. Where it once had a regal air and elegance, he felt now it had been replaced by something cold. Like death lurked these dungeons.

Surely he hadn’t left one war to walk into another, had he? 

The room Draco opened him up to had five beds in it, one of them clearly empty being for him. His immediate assumption was there must have been too many Slytherins in this year to fit one room. Two boys sat on the edge of the bed furthest from the door and barely seemed to look up until Draco cleared his throat and introduced them to their newest housemate, telling them to behave themselves and not bring shame on their house.

At least these Slytherins still seemed to care about the proud name of their house. Still, Tom thought some intelligence had been lost in the gene pool. Perhaps all the inbreeding finally catching up.

Their loss, his gain, he decided.

 

* * *

 

“Headmaster, you surely can’t think this is a good idea,” Severus said from where he stood, looming over the headmaster’s desk. His beady eyes bore into the older man, accusingly, like he had orchestrated this whole ordeal. As far as Snape was concerned, he might as well have with the way he was reacting. “We should kill the boy and put an end to everyone’s misery.”

Dumbledore just smiled back, calm and collected as he let Severus get his feelings out and glanced over to Minerva, curious as to how she was taking this. She looked rather more comflicted.

Finally blue, dancing eyes returned to the spy and he leaned forward with fingertips pressed together. “He’s a twelve year old boy, Severus. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Yet!” Severus roared. “He’s a genocidal psychopath. You can’t let him roam the halls with- with children!”

Dumbledore knew Severus didn’t care for the children. While they often disagreed, they had long since came to an understanding that Severus was here out of necessity, not pleasure. 

“I understand your fear. But he’s just a boy. I already made the mistake once in my life of rejecting young Tom Riddle, pushing him further and further away from positive role models and towards those who would ultimately corrupt him,” he said softly. “I won’t make the same mistake twice. He deserves a chance.”

“Headmaster,” Minerva spoke up now, her mouth a hard line and eyes still carrying years of sorrow in them, “We all know that Tom Riddle wasn’t corrupted. He was… he was…”

“Born evil?” Dumbledore finished for her. “No one is born evil, my dear Minerva. While I agree that Tom is already down a bad path, we can still steer him off of it. I believe Harry can steer him off of it.”

“Harry!?” “Potter?”

The two teachers stared, slack-jawed at the headmaster who looked so solemn but so certain in his choice. “You can’t put a weight like this on Harry. He’s just a boy,” McGonagall argued. “He has enough on his plate!”

“Not to mention he’s not the brightest bulb,” Severus pointed out as he stood and crossed his arms over each other.

Albus put up a hand to silence them and shook his head. “This isn’t up for debate. My decision is final. We will try to nurture Mr. Riddle into a caring human being. If things go south, what must be done will be done,” he agreed.

Minerva sighed softly, but her relief was tainted with an aching heart. What must be done, of course. This is war. As much as it hurt, even children could be casualties of it. 


End file.
